


Cold

by bonecrusher (orphan_account)



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Folie à Deux (Fall Out Boy), Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, it's quarter to 12 am what am i doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 01:32:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7738060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/bonecrusher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"These nights without you are cold and meaningless. The days are dark and bland"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold

It was only going to be a small break between them, that's all it was supposed to be.

So that's what Patrick told him, but month after month and they haven't communicated at all, and Pete knew that wasn't exactly what couples did when something big happens like the band's hiatus.

But to him; It seemed like Patrick just threw away their years of friendship and relationship, but he wasn't thinking clearly, so he must've been wrong.

Patrick had also told Pete that he needed time for himself as well, to get himself back on his feet because of the way Folie was received by their fans hurt him deeply, and he understood that.

They just wanted to try something a little different for once and the band got boo'd for it all.

Yet, the way the situation had become, it wasn't supposed to be like _this_.

Pete wasn't sure what to do because of the mess that has twisted everything in his life, made it all turn upside down.

He was miserable again and he was unable to make himself happy.

Only Patrick could make it better, but he wasn't around anymore to help him, and there was no point in calling him up or texting him for his convenience.

Pete wouldn't be sure what to say to his somewhat- ex boyfriend in the first place, plus he wouldn't want to burden Patrick even more.

So here he was, seated on the couch while buried in blankets in the dark, only having the television screen emit light in the room as he wrote in his notebook; remembering the old days, remembering how he just wanted his mind to shut the hell up for once, how he took that bottle of Atavan because he wanted it to stop.

Everything had become too much and that was his breaking point.

Even after the incident, Pete would've gotten concerned looks from his bandmates, they were worried for a long time, thinking that something similar would happen again because his thoughts were killing him.

Now, Pete was going back to those times once more, becoming depressed about everything that has gone wrong again.

So in short terms; he was fucked and no one could save him from himself this time.

Pete sighed, and scribbled out some words and replaced with others that seemed to fit better.

_“Everything is pointless now, Trick, I don't have much less to lose anymore. All I have are my thoughts that turn into lyrics._  
_I miss you, I miss you so much, its not the same and I hate this, I'm hurting and I need you too, everything is grey these days since we've stopped being.. together_  
_I've even started to contemplate suicide again, but It's unlikely that I'd try again because you don't need that stress._  
_Nobody does_  
_But these nights without you are cold and meaningless. The days are dark and bland and I'm lost without being by your side”_

Then the black haired closed the notebook and put his pencil down beside him, yet another letter left unsent and never to be read by anyone but himself.

It was going to be one of those nights.

Pete hated the loneliness at night that haunted him, because it made him realize how stupid his life was; how Patrick had him wrapped around his finger like nothing.

His heart ached for him to be back, he still missed everything about him.

He was pathetic, so god damn pathetic for being this way, hung up on him only because he loved his golden boy so much.

It seemed like everything he's done in life was for nothing, he wasn't sure how long the band would last but he didn't want it to end now, because it all was going so well, they _were_ a big hit.

But shit happens that you can't control.

Pete rubbed his eyes and yawned, unsure of the time but it could've been three in the morning for all he cared, being the insomniac he was.

It felt like the world was against him again.

He stood up and walked over to the television to turn it off, still having the blankets wrapped around him, left his notebook behind on the couch and trudged up the stairs while not seeing where he was going but his eyesight had gotten used to the pitch black to make his way.

Pete walked into his bedroom and just laid down on the bed, not bothered to get under the covers because he didn't see the point.

He'd wish this nightmare would end.

He didn't see the point of living.

**Author's Note:**

> im sad so i decided to write this piece of shit  
> i hope you like this i guess


End file.
